


hold still, the painting isn't done

by kwritten



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/pseuds/kwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: </p><p>Don't know why I'm still afraid<br/>If you weren't real I would make you up</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold still, the painting isn't done

She will sometimes dream up the perfect boyfriend when she is safe between her covers and the lights are all off and her white noise machine is set to low and her to-do list for today is complete and the to-do list for tomorrow is expertly color-coded and her nightly facial regime is done and the day is  _over_  so she lets herself sink between the sheets and paint a man in the sky like clouds.  
  
  
He never had a face and she thinks that's normal. She tells herself he doesn't need a face. It'll only lead to disappointment if there are expectations that she can't mold like clay.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
One night just before darkness folded her up, the man whisking scrambled eggs as she flips pancakes and they talk about sweet nothing and he nudges her with his hip just to let her know he's there and thinks she's cute and lovely and is listening and he's humming under his breath and she's warm and smiling and turns her head and isn't at all surprised at the face that doesn't smile back.  
  
  
(Abed doesn't smile often.)  
  
  
(He saves his smiles for moments when he feels it is necessary.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She catches him smiling a few days later. She's cleaning the stove and he's sitting on the counter (and it doesn't at all feel like the dream that wasn't a dream with the eggs and pancakes that she's patiently ignoring) listening and flipping through a new comic book and she looks up and he is smiling down at her and she forgets what she was saying to smile back and then the moment is gone and his eyes flick back to blankness and her heart hammers in her throat and it tastes like expectations.  
  
  
  
  
(and if that night, lying between her sheets, she imagines that smile pressed against her lips and her dream-self laughs and kisses it into submission, she doesn't think about it in the morning.)  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
Sometimes he finds himself smiling at her. For no reason whatsoever.   
  
He always stops himself. Because smiling isn't for him, it's for other people.  
  
Troy taught him that. Troy taught him that a smile is like a kiss on the air - it lets the world know that you are listening and think that they are wonderful.  
  
  
Troy smiled all the time. At everyone. He knew how to let people know that he was there.  
  
He's not there anymore to imitate. So sometimes Abed forgets. Jeff will make a joke or Britta will say hello and he'll forget that his body is supposed to match his mind and the smile will come too late and feel forced and stretched out on his skin.  
  
  
  
There are so many things that are hard to remember.   
  
  
  
And then there are moments when he forgets that he's smiling. Just like that, it comes naturally.   
  
  
He keeps a chart. There's a spreadsheet that he calculates by hand. Because numbers don't lie.  
  
  
And numbers tell him that his skin wants to spread itself into a smile when she is nearby. He stops it a few times to consider what it may mean and he sees her face reflect his - a bright smile that falls and that confuses him too.  
  
  
  
  
His hand likes to reach for her when they sit on the couch watching television. He always has a reason. He bends the space to give a reason for his reaching hand and his bright smile.  
  
  
He makes her watch horror films because her hand finds his and he doesn't have to tell her a reason that isn't true to excuse his wandering skin that acts strangely when she is near.   
  
  
He smiles because Abed likes horror films.

 

 

 

****  
  
  
  
  
They fall asleep on the couch in their living room and there isn't space between them anywhere and it feels almost as if they've grown into each other and they aren't missing that extra person like a missing limb anymore.   
  
  
(Maybe he was taking up space and not letting them see how well they fit together. But that's disloyal. So they'll never say it aloud.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He wakes up and it is an easy transition because in his dream his skin was happy and warm and where it wanted to be and he woke up and it was true.  
  
  
"Sometimes I want to be dark-Abed."  
"Why?"  
"Because he'd know how to kiss dark-Annie in the morning like his skin wants to."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Some nights later she comes into the living room in her nightgown and the dream man she's been painting has a face and she's tired of pretending, so it's time to take all the masks off.  
  
  
"I feel like tomorrow I might be dark-Annie when I wake up," and the hope in his eyes makes her feel drunk.   
  
"My skin will be so happy," and he smiles.


End file.
